Prickly Pears

I have discovered my new favorite fruit.  And the winner is: A Prickly Pear!  Now, I’m sure many of you are wondering, “What in the world is a prickly pear?”  Well, some of you may remember a little something about a prickly pear in the Disney classic, The Jungle Book.  The following lyrics can be found in the song, The Bare Necessities:

“Now when you pick a pawpaw

Or a prickly pear

And you prick a raw paw

Next time beware

Don't pick the prickly pear by the paw

When you pick a pear

Try to use the claw

But you don't need to use the claw

When you pick a pear of the big pawpaw

Have I given you a clue?”

Now Baloo has a point when singing about the prickly pear.  The Prickly Pear is actually the fruit that grows on the cactus plant.  The fruit comes after a transformation of the buds and flower of the plant.  The fruit itself is also covered with countless painful little “hairs” that can easily become imbedded in clothing, skin, or anything else it comes into contact with.  You can read more about this interesting fruit at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Opuntia

Thankfully, by the time the prickly pears reach the average consumer, they have been cleaned of all the dangerous hairs.  However, it is inevitable that you’ll end up with one or two of the painful hairs in your skin after cutting the pear open.  But the pain is worth the reward, as the fruit is absolutely delicious.  (In my opinion.)  The fruit is very juicy and succulent and contains hard seeds that are better off swallowed than bitten into.  This fruit is plentiful in South Africa’s Eastern Cape Province, but can be found in other desert-like climates. 

Once again, I have found another thing that I truly enjoy here in South Africa.  Seemingly almost every week there is a new food that I try, and usually enjoy.  I look forward to seeing what’s next on my delicious and unique food journey in South Africa. 

The Prickly Pear

The wondrous fruit

The Effects of the World Cup

I have had a lot of people ask me what South Africa is like now that the World Cup has come and gone.  So I’d like to take some time explaining my observations.

The FIFA World Cup 2010 was one of the most exciting, passionate times for South Africa in its history.  The 2010 World Cup was the first held on African soil, and the excitement filled the stadiums, streets and homes of this proud country.  Not many South Africans would have believed that only 16 years after the end of Apartheid and many international sports sanctions, they would be hosting the world’s most popular and prestigious tournament.  However, South Africa was chosen as a host and had prepared for years for 2010.

In the short-term, the World Cup brought the obvious economic boom for South Africa.  There was a massive influx of visitors to the country, and there were increased profits in many of the host cities.  New stadiums were built in many cities, including the state-of-the-art facilities in Cape Town and Johannesburg.  Roads, airports and other forms of infrastructure were renovated and improved.  For example, the Bloemfontein airport experienced a serious makeover, which has made me a happy traveler when using it.  There were many construction jobs created, as well as security and other miscellaneous jobs pertaining to the World Cup.

During the month of the tournament, South Africa was united.  Whites, blacks and coloureds were no longer defined by their race, but rather by their national identity.    Although Bafana Bafana, South Africa’s national team, did not progress to the next round, there was still immense pride in being hosts to the world.  I have heard countless stories from people who explained that during the World Cup, there was so much pride, happiness and excitement surrounding the tournament that there was barely any crime committed in many areas thought to be dangerous.  The tournament went off without a hitch, and the example South Africa set is now being followed by future host nations.

 Half a year after the tournament, there are still many reminders of the World Cup.  Almost everywhere you go there is World Cup 2010 paraphernalia being sold.  In every city and neighborhood you will find people sporting their yellow Bafana Bafana jerseys, and wearing them proudly.  The World Cup’s theme song, Waka Waka, is still as popular as ever and can be heard daily when in town or any public place.  The effects from the improved infrastructure has left many roads in excellent condition and travelling safer and more comfortable.  However, there are still some effects from the World Cup which haven’t been as positive as others.  Many businesses and municipalities had forecasted too much of an economic impact, and some businesses are hurting after anticipating a huge rise in sales, profits, etc.  There is also the threat that some of the World Cup stadiums may become ‘white elephants’ due to their large operating costs and lack of events being held in them. 

Yet despite some setbacks from the overall impact of the 2010 World Cup, the positive effects far outweigh any negative ones.  South Africa has a new look and proven that South Africans are capable of doing great things.  The 2010 FIFA World Cup will be an event cemented in South Africa’s history, and one that will remain in the hearts and minds of South Africans forever.  

Motlalepula

Over the past several months, I have been living with the wonderful Monama family in their home in the Fauna neighborhood of Bloemfontein.  And over that time, I have acquired a nickname from my host father, Rev. Monama.  He now calls me Motlalepula, which roughly translates into “the one who brings the rain.”  This nickname has come about because it has seemed that no matter where we traveled as a family, whether it is my travels outside the Free State Province or when I returned home, it always rained wherever I was.  And as in much of the rest of the world, the weather this year has been extraordinarily odd in South Africa.  We have had record rainfalls in much of the country, and there has been major flooding in almost every province in the country.  So it seems, for better or worse, that I have been the Motlalepula for all of South Africa.

For many North Americans, the thought of someone who brings a lot of rain would come with bad connotations.  In the United States, we see rain as something that ruins a wedding day, cancels baseball games, or makes it difficult to walk our dogs.  No matter the time of year, the majority of us look at rain as being a nuisance and something that inhibits our daily life patterns.  But here in South Africa, rain is actually prayed for and celebrated.  Pula, (rain in Sesotho,) is something that brings happiness to people here.  It is said that if it rains on your wedding day, the marriage is blessed.  If it is rains on your birthday, you will be blessed for the year to come.  If it rains on your funeral day, it is a powerful sign of mourning but also of celebration of your life.  In a country where agriculture is so important, so too is rain.  For many people in South Africa, especially those in rural villages and communities, rain is needed for survival.  It has been so amazing to think of something as simple as rain in such a different way.  But seeing rain in a different light in South Africa has made me realize other differences in humanly similar instances.

In South Africa, the belief in Ubuntu is strong, and is something that people of all races live by.  Ubuntu is a Bantu language word that means “People are people through other people.”  This is evident in so much of my daily life.  During my time at Tshepo Day Care, the feeling of Ubuntu is strong among Petro and Peter, my supervisors, as well as the staff and children.  There is a common feeling of purpose and collective compassion, something that shows in the smiles of each of the 140 children at the day care center.  Ubuntu is also seen in the Monamas at home.  Over the past couple of months, there have been several college bound young adults who needed a temporary place to stay in Bloemfontein as they searched for schooling.  The Monama’s opened up their homes to some people they barely knew, simply because they are people who love other people.  Seeing Ubuntu in action has been powerful, especially considering it is such a rare occurrence back in the States.

South Africa also differs from the United States when it comes to their ways of showing hospitality.  In South Africa, if someone is visiting, for any reason, the way of welcoming that person is by bringing them to your home and providing a home-cooked meal.  People here believe that someone should see who are you and where you come from in order to really know that person.  In the United States, the common way of welcoming someone to a new community or to your presence is commonly by taking them out to eat at a restaurant.  As nice as that is, it is less personal and not as intimate as bringing someone to your home, your special place.  Here, there is so much pride in each corner of the house, and being able to spend an evening with a new acquaintance in your home is a very beautiful thing.

One of the “similar differences” I have experienced comes during offering in church.  Back home in the United States, offering usually consists of offering plates being somberly passed around the pews, with soft singing and not much enthusiasm.  However, at my church in South Africa, offering is a time of celebration and excitement.  For the offering, songs of praise and joy are sung as people dance up the aisles, smiling brightly as they place their gifts into the baskets.  People are so happy to give to their church, and celebrate the opportunity to do so.  I’m not saying that people back home aren’t happy to give to their churches, because many people are very generous givers.  But seeing offering as a time of celebrating the opportunity to give to God is something that will always stick with me.

So as I experience some of the cultural and societal differences here, I am beginning to absorb the South African way of life.  I thank God for the simple gracious gifts in life, that before I either never noticed or took the time to be thankful for.  When I see large rain clouds rolling into Bloem, I smile knowing that it is actually a sign of good things to come.  I am more comfortable when meeting visitors and people for the first time.  I try to live each day in a meaningful way of Ubuntu, whether I am on a taxi, in a classroom, or at home.  The wonderful warmth and love in so many people here is surely contagious, and I look forward to carrying the South African hospitality back home with me.  This year has taught me so many life lessons already, but each day I seem to learn something new.  Seeing things differently and living with a twist of opposite ideologies has already shaped me into a different person.  Hopefully experiencing more exciting cultural differences will not only continue to shape me, but also redefine how I live my life here and back home.

Our Brothers and Sisters

In Desmond Tutu’s book, God Has A Dream, Tutu states,

“God’s dream wants us to be brothers and sisters, wants us to be family.”

As I’ve said in previous blog posts, I am experiencing a new sense of family while in South Africa.  Family is no longer just my Mom, Dad and two sisters.  Family is much more than that to me now.  And as each day passes with new experiences and created relationships, my family grows.  And with that extended family comes the happiness and joys but also the sorrow and pain.  Recently, I met one of my newly extended family members, and I felt her pain.

As I was going about my busy day at Tshepo Day Care center, I actually had to teach a grade R class (kindergarten) for the day, as our grade R teacher couldn’t make it to work.  It was quite a stressful day, as I wasn’t really prepared to teach 20 children, none of whom speak English.  But the day was going on well, and it finally came to a point where it was nap time for the children.  During that time, a woman named Sophie came to the Day Care center, asking for assistance for her and her family.  As Sophie waited in our Hall for her food, I sat with her and engaged in a conversation that impacted me like none other.

 As I took a seat opposite Sophie, I could already sense the pain in her heart.  We began talking and I started asking how she was doing and what her situation was.  Sophie then started telling me her story.  Her grandmother had just recently passed away, and her grandmother was her guardian and only person looking over her, her 18 year old sister and 2 year old baby, and her 14 year old brother.  Sophie’s parents had passed away, and at 26, she was now responsible for watching over her younger siblings and niece.  But the passing of her grandmother was difficult for another reason; her grandmother was the only one receiving a grant from the government.  The grant, a measly R1,000 a month, (approx. USD $145) was supporting a family of 5. 

At this point in her story, Sophie’s eyes began to water.  She looked out the window, seemingly trying to fixate on something to keep herself from getting too emotional.  I felt so helpless.  I realized that this was a very difficult point in her life, one that I’ve never had to experience myself.  She continued with her story, describing how her brother is in High School and has school fees to pay.  She explained how she has a strong desire to work, but can’t get a job because she has Tuberculosis.  She told me how she is alone, with no food, no work, and no hope.  At this point, Sophie had become quite emotional.  I couldn’t help but become emotional myself, as I could see the pain and sadness in her eyes.  I didn’t know what to say.  I didn’t know what to do.  No matter how hard I could try, I could never relate to the pain and hardships she was feeling.  I did what I could to provide comfort and assurance that things would work out.  All I could do was think to myself, “What can I do right now to help her and her family?  I have to do anything in my power, anything.”  But as I searched for comforting words, it was hard to find some that could bring comfort to someone in such pain, with such a hopeless feeling .   When I asked Sophie what was the most important thing that she needed right away, she answered, “Food and a bed.”  In her one room tin shack in the informal settlement, her and her family have no beds to sleep on.  They must sleep on the uneven dirt floor every night.  As I sat there with tears slowly falling from my watery eyes, I couldn’t help but think how much I’ve taken for granted in life.  How lucky and blessed I’ve been.  How this woman, very close to my age, is living a life so contrasted to mine that you wouldn’t think we could be in the same room together.  This was the first time I’ve truly felt someone’s pain from such poverty.  The empathy I’ve had after reading books or seeing statistics on impoverished situations didn’t even compare to the compassion I was now experiencing.  As our conversation came to a close, we stood up and we embraced each other with a hug.  As I held her in my arms, and all I could say was, “Everything’s going to be alright.”  But I knew that I was lying to myself and her. 

Whenever I’ve faced hardships in my life, I could always go with the “everything’s going to be alright” mentality because, more likely than not, it was.  But that’s because I’ve never had to face challenges like Sophie’s.  I’ve never had to go to sleep with an empty stomach.  I’ve never had to sleep on a dirt floor in a one room house.  I’ve never had to go to someone else to ask for food in order to survive.  I’ve never had to take care of my younger siblings on my own.  I haven’t even met anyone in a situation like this until I met Sophie. 

As I continue to move on with my daily life and the comforts that come with it, I can’t stop thinking about Sophie.  And what makes everything even more upsetting is that her story is only one of millions around the world.  And for the most part, many people like me have never sat down and heard a story from someone like Sophie.  But as I’ve learned during my year here, everyone is part of my family, including Sophie. 

I will continue to cry for Sophie, and for the millions just like her until there is economic justice in our world.  I’ll never forget the conversation that will forever be a part of me.  And as I continue to work in solidarity with people like Sophie, my big extended family will continue to increase.  Despite the color of my skin or my country of origin, I am making new brothers and sisters every day in South Africa.

And as Desmond Tutu provides the following questions for reflection, I too provide them to you:

“What would it mean for you to see everyone around you as a brother or sister?  How would you treat them differently?  What keeps you from welcoming them into your family?  As you see people in the street, and opinions, judgments, and prejudices leap to mind, can you see them as not this or that, but as a child of God, as your brother or sister?”

These questions had a very different meaning to me when I first read them.  But today, as I continue to reflect on these questions and others, I do so while remembering Sophie, the newest member of my family.  

This blog entry was written for the ELCA MUD3 blog, which can be viewed at: http://elcamud.blogspot.com/

New Placement, New Beginnings

As 2011 has come, so too has a new placement site for me.  Over a week ago, I was at home with my family relaxing when Mamoruti came to me with an interesting organization she found while ‘Googling’ organizations in the Bloemfontein area.  I was quickly intrigued and began clicking around the website.  After fruitless attempts of getting in contact with organizations before the holidays, I decided to call the Director the next day instead of emailing.  So the next day I called Peter Howe, one of the founders of the Tshepo Foundation.  To my surprise, Peter was able to meet me that afternoon to discuss things.  After about two hours of meeting with Peter and his wife Petro, I was officially offered placement as a volunteer with the Tshepo Foundation and Judea Harvest.

Tshepo Foundation is an organization that runs Tshepo Day-Care for children 2-6 years old, as well as conducts in orphan care and community upliftment.  The Foundation regularly provides food to the surrounding community, as well as assistance to other crèches in the area.  Judea Harvest is an organization that Peter works with.  They work with pastors primarily in the townships who are without a church structure.  Judea Harvest provides the pastor’s with large tents in order to have a place to worship.  They also conduct weekly computer classes at the Tshepo crèche in which they go over basic computer skills as well as software regarding scripture.

This week was my first full week with Tshepo.  There is so much to do, and I have already done activities ranging from cutting down trees to teaching a Grade R (kindergarten) class.  As tshepo is a Tswana word meaning ‘hope,’ I hope to learn and interact in solidarity with the staff and children at Tshepo for the next several months.  I’m excited for what lies ahead and can’t wait to share more stories with you.

To visit the Tshepo Foundation website, please visit http://www.tshepofoundation.co.za/

Khotso, PULA, Nala

Recently, 8 other YAGM volunteers and I went on a vacation to Lesotho, a landlocked country within South Africa.  Lesotho is known as the ‘mountain kingdom in the sky,’ for its breathtaking Maluti mountains, making it the highest elevated country on earth.  Lesotho is a country blessed with beautiful mountain ranges, fast flowing rivers and streams, and wonderful people.  However, Lesotho is also suffering from extreme poverty and has the third highest HIV infection rate in the world.  In 2009, I embarked on a month long service trip to Lesotho with my school, Wittenberg University, which forever changed me.  It is because of my trip that summer that led me to the YAGM program, and Lesotho will always have a special place in my heart.

Before departing for Lesotho, the 8 other volunteers convened in Bloemfontein for a ‘send-off braai’ by my host family, the Monamas.  It was a great way to start our vacation.  It was a sunny, warm afternoon and we spent time playing cards, helping prepare the food, and just hanging out.  After enjoying a massive braai, it was time to head to Lesotho.  As is always the case, our taxi adventures were interesting.  It took some time before we figured out the correct process to take the correct long distance taxi.  But after some assistance, we were on our way.  Once we crossed the border, we were swarmed by taxi drivers eager for our business.  We had to fend off drivers as we looked for the proper cars. We eventually split into two groups and headed to Roma.  As the sun was setting, we reached Thorn’s Trading Post Guest Lodge, a place quite familiar to me as it was where I stayed in 2009.

Our first morning, we were to head to the guest lodge in Ramabanta, a village high in the mountains and about 40kms further inland from where we were staying.  But before we left, we had time to do a little hiking.  So we set off on a hike to see the dinosaur footprints in the area.  But before we left, we needed someone to guide us there.  So as I did in 2009, I stood in the road and basically caused attention on myself.  And to my surprise, the first child to greet us was a boy I had befriended on my trip two years ago!  He immediately recognized me, and I him.  What an awesome moment, for I never could have imagined being back in Lesotho.  As more children came running from their homes, we went hiking hand-in-hand with our local guides, to the top of a mountain where the footprints were imbedded in rock.  After our hike, it was off to Ramabanta and the journey in the mountains.

With our guides at the Dinosaur footprints 

Lesotho’s motto is ‘Khotso, Pula, Nala,’ or ‘Peace, Rain, Prosperity.’  Well, there was no shortage of pula while we were in Lesotho.  The rain we encountered in Ramabanta was unlike any rain I have ever experienced myself.  It was an intense rain, loud as it hit the roofs and even as it struck the ground.  For the three days we were in Ramabanta, it basically was a steady rain.  But the pula didn’t deter us from enjoying our time there.  On New Year’s day, we went on a long ‘4 bridges’ hike, which went around a mountain and over 4 bridges.  Since we got a bit lost, our hike actually went over a mountain.  But we didn’t complain.  That night we were treated to a fabulous dinner, accompanied by candlelight and soft jazz music playing in the background.  After enjoying our meal, we spent about an hour going around the table and each offering a toast.  After getting lost in conversation and laughter, we headed back to one of our flats we were staying in. 

Now, at Ramabanta, there is no constant stream of electricity.  Each day, the generator is powered from 6pm-10pm, providing electricity for those 4 hours of the day.  New Year’s Day was no exception.  At 10pm, all the lights went out, and we spent the remaining hours in a dark room with the soft glow of candles as our only source of light.  As midnight approached, we stood outside and counted down the minutes.  The only sounds were the distant rhythmic beats coming from the local shebeen, or bar, and there were small fireworks going off in the valley and mountain ranges all around us.  The clock hit 12, and we rang in the New Year in complete silence, complete darkness, and complete simplistic bliss. 

Our last day in Ramabanta with our hosts Rosemary and Eric

The rest of our time in Lesotho was spent hiking and enjoying the outdoors, as well as each other’s company.  On Sunday, we had an intimate worship service in which we read the readings for the day, sang some songs and offered our reflections.  On our way back to Roma, we had to drive through a river, as it had flooded and was flowing quickly over the road we needed to pass.  But we made it through and enjoyed spending our last day at Little Angels day care orphanage, where I had spent some time with my University in 2009.  That evening we enjoyed the best homemade potato soup ever made, a movie, and sitting by the fire as we tried to dry out from a wet and rainy 5 days. 

Our trip to Lesotho was one I’ll never forget.  I was able to create new memories at old places, and the time we got to spend together was priceless.  Being able to return to a place that so drastically changed my life is a blessing and the most surreal and amazing experience I’ve ever had.  I am so happy I was able to share ‘my special place’ with my YAGM family, and look forward to creating new memories with them in the future.

Seeing Christmas Differently

Bosigong kwa Bethlehem,

Ke bomang mo ‘sakeng?

Bo-Maria le Josef bat eng

Le ngwanyana yo ba mmonyeng,

Yo o tswang ‘godimong.

This is not a random set of Sotho words or phrases.  This is not a poem or some kind of Sotho saying.  This is the first stanza of the song “Silent Night” in Sotho, Hymn number 15 in our ELCSA hymnal.  It may look daunting, but give singing it a try, (don’t worry about your pronunciations, I struggled in the beginning just the same.) 

Singing songs like this in church, in a completely foreign language to me, reinforces South Africa’s motto, ‘Unity in Diversity.’  This powerful term not only refers to the people, cultures and societal norms of the country, but also to the Lutheran church.  As the ELCA and ELCSA share many of the same hymns, creeds and prayers, there are also many ways in which the churches differ from each other.  For instance, at my home congregation, offering is given by somberly passing a plate down your pew.  Here, offering is a celebration and people dance up the aisle, singing praises of thanks to God for being able to offer some of their money to the church.  And while there are many similar and contrasting aspects of church at home and in South Africa, I began to think of the differences during Christmas.   

For the majority of us, Christmas in America means Santa Claus, decorations and lights, Christmas cookies, popular Christmas songs, and a myriad of family traditions.  Christmas in America really seems to last over a month, as many store decorations and TV commercials would suggest.  Our capitalist society has commercialized the most significant Biblical occurrence of our time.   And as time goes on and years pass by, have we lost the foundations for what Christmas is really about?  Do we stretch our traditions and celebrations too far into the secular world and away from our core Christian beliefs?

Let’s pause for a moment.  Recently I have been thinking a lot about Christmas and the holiday season, trying to make sense of it all.  And it was truly hard to connect the dots. 

Let’s start with good ‘ol Saint Nick.  What a strange, mysterious, inconspicuous man he is.  An old, yet never-aging, man who routinely conducts in burglary and breaking and entering each holiday season.  Besides the North Pole, Santa visits shopping malls more than anywhere else, perhaps so he can pick up those gifts that his elves can’t produce in his shop.  And Santa has been climate-aware for some time, as his Reindeer surely don’t produce the amount of emissions many of our gas guzzling SUV’s do.  But what is the point of Santa Claus?  Where did this odd custom and tradition come from?  Without a quick Wikipedia search, I’m sure the majority of us would have no idea on the origins of Santa Claus. 

Despite Santa being a stranger, I always loved him.  And it’s a good thing growing up I always had a chimney because I always felt bad for the kids who weren’t getting presents due to their lack of chimney accessibility.  And I have to be honest, I probably found myself praying more to Santa Claus asking him for the newest gaming system than I did praying to God.

In addition to my love for Santa, I have a love of cookies.  I love cookies so much I could probably live off them, but then I’d most likely accumulate the gut, hypertension and rosy-red cheeks of Santa himself.  And I always loved our Christmas tree.  I loved the smell of a newly cut Douglas fir or other conifer tree, standing in the corner of our living room, shining bright and sparkling from the assortment of ornaments on it.  I never did love carrying the tree up the stairs into the house, watering the tree or cleaning up all the fallen needles.  I was never really fond of our dogs and cats knocking it over, either.  Nonetheless, I loved seeing that tree with gifts under it each Christmas morning.  But I suppose I never stopped and thought to myself, “Why are we putting a tree in our house?  Did I miss something in Matthew that said “Thy must place tree in house to show one’s love for Christ?”

Don’t get me wrong, I love the American Christmas traditions as much as the next person.  But what my Christmas in South Africa has taught me is in order to remember the real reasons we celebrate Christmas, I had to live Christmas differently.  My Christmas here was one of simplistic beauty, of pure jubilation for the birth of our Savior and of giving thanks to God for sending only Son to us.  Being in the Southern Hemisphere changed what I came to associate Christmas with.  Instead of bundling up and wishing for a white Christmas, I threw on my shades and enjoyed eating our meal outside in the summer Sun.  There was no Christmas tree, no outside lights, no cookies, and no Santa.  There was happiness, love of family and love of Jesus.  Everything I had come to know and associate with Christmas was different.

My coordinator, Brian Konkol, shared a quote with us on Christmas day from Dietrich Bonhoeffer: “Jesus stands at the door and knocks, in complete reality…He confronts you in every person you meet.  He walks on the Earth as the one through whom God calls you, speaks to you, and makes his demands.  That is the great seriousness and great blessedness of the Advent message.  Christ stands at the door.  He lives in the form of the person in our midst.”

This is what so many of us seem to forget at Christmas.  This is the reality of the holiday, and what it’s truly about. As I continue to meet new people each and every day, I must carry this message of Christmas along with me.  And as I am a lover of tradition and whole-heartedly enjoy the Christmas festivities, I don’t believe there should be an end to them.  However, I challenge you as I continue to challenge myself, to stop and think at times, and ponder how relevant our actions may be to Christ.  In the midst of preparing Christmas dinner or driving from mall to mall, or stressing over material things we want, we should stop and thank God for the truly best Christmas gift of all, Christ Jesus.  

This blog entry was written for the ELCA MUD3 blog, which can be viewed at: http://elcamud.blogspot.com/